


Your Dad Sucks

by camichats



Category: Marvel
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:28:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24295105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Sometimes a good date night means skipping out early and talking about how shitty your fathers were.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Your Dad Sucks

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tony Stark bingo R4-Everett Ross

Everett Ross wasn't the pain in the ass that his father was. For example, Bruce hated his father because Thaddeus fucking Ross kept trying to control him and treat him like a test tube project instead of a person; Bruce didn't have any problem with Everett Ross because his opening line to Bruce was, "My father is absolute shit, isn't he?" 

Bruce blinked and said, "Yeah." They hadn't met before, but there was no mistaking who he was. All the news coverage and family fame aside, he looked similar enough to Thaddeus that Bruce knew what family he belonged to the moment he laid eyes on him. 

Everett clinked their glasses together, took a sip, then said, "I'd like to talk to you about a few legal matters he has in the works that I'd like to avoid." He put a business card on the counter next to Bruce's drink. "Give me a call when you're free or want to work out an appointment time." 

"Uh." Bruce didn't really know what to say to that. "Sure." 

"Cheers. I look forward to hearing from you." He raised his glass in a toast, downed the rest of it, then left. There was an awkward half-aborted motion like he had planned on patting Bruce's shoulder, but fortunately, he'd thought better of it before he made contact. It wouldn't have triggered the Hulk or anything, but he was functionally a stranger, and Bruce liked his space. By the time Tony came out of the bathroom, Everett Ross was gone and Bruce was still puzzling over the business card in front of him. 

"Getting other men's numbers? Bruce, you dog, and here I thought we were on a sort of date." 

"A sort of date?" Bruce repeated, raising an eyebrow at Tony. "As I recall, when you asked, you said it was definitely a date because if I didn't want to go on a date with you, you were going to be too busy crying into your ice cream-honey mixtures." 

"Your memory is playing tricks on you," Tony said with an injured sniff that was entirely for show. 

"I don't know why you feel the need to cover when we've been dating for two months. It's Everett Ross," he said, sliding the card to be in front of Tony. "He said there was something in court that he wants to talk to me about or... something." He didn't really know. Mostly because he'd been in his mindset for virgin drinks with Tony and not dealing with Hulk stuff. He certainly hadn't been prepared to have his worst enemy brought up while he was trying to relax. 

Tony gave an understanding little, "Ah," noise, shifting his leg so that it was pressed against Bruce's. "Do you want to head out? This isn't the best strawberry daiquiri I've ever had, so it won't be a tragedy to leave it behind. Why did we think a bar was a good idea, again?" 

" _We_ didn't think anything," Bruce said. "This was all you." 

"Oh sure, make Iron Man take the blame for everything," he said with an over-the-top sigh. He reached in his pocket and slapped a couple twenties on the counter, pocketed the business card, then offered a hand to Bruce as if he'd really need it to get off his bar stool. 

Bruce was slowly getting used to the casual affection Tony always giving him, so he took his hand instead of ignoring it. It's not like they were holding hands as they walked along the street over to Tony's car, but even after they let go, they were standing close enough for their arms to brush against each other; it was a reminder that neither of them were alone. 

The car doors shut, Tony locked the doors automatically, and the car started. 

"I hate your father," Bruce said, which-- now that it was out of his mouth-- he realized was out of the blue for Tony. 

"Join the club, buddy. Did the younger, not-as-much-of-an-asshole Ross bring him up?" 

"No, he mentioned that his own father was an asshole, but I was thinking about it." 

"Ah," Tony said with an understanding nod. "Howard was an ass, ol' Thunderbolt _is_ an ass; what about your dad? Is he losing any father of the year competitions?" They didn't really talk about Bruce's father, which was as much of an answer as Tony had needed at the time, but he _was_ curious. 

Bruce didn't answer for a minute, and Tony wasn't planning to push it. Bruce didn't want to answer, that was fine. Eventually though-- several streets and a song and a half later-- Bruce said, "We haven't talked since I came out. I'm not even sure he's still alive." 

"Huh. When we call Mister Everett Ross, perhaps we can start a club for 'Our Fathers Suck But We're Alright'." 

Bruce snorted, then waited until they were at a red light to lean over and kiss Tony's cheek. 


End file.
